Harry Potter & the Half Blood Suicide: The Falling
by Jonathan Dewey
Summary: Thrown into his sixth and possibly final year at Hogwarts, Harry is finding it harder to cope with Sirius's death than he had imagined. With so many new, terrible things happening to him, Harry is not sure how much more he can live with.
1. Unconscious

_**The Falling**_

By Jonathon Dewey

Chapter 1: Unconscious

Summer had come and gone. On September 1st, Harry would be heading back to Hogwarts.

"Today's the 30th. Two more days…." Harry whispered to himself softly.

He looked over at the clock on his bedside table. 2:59.

Now that he thought about it, he was pretty tired. His eyes were sore and unfocused. Harry blinked several times in quick succession.

As he took his glasses off, he thought he saw a dark figure through his window. He was too tired to investigate. He rolled over on his side, watching the clock turn 3:00 before he closed his eyes….

He had barely laid his head back down on his pillow when he heard whispering.

"Harry! Harry! Are you up there? Are you awake?"

A voice was calling for him somewhere. He quickly put his glasses on and turned his lamp off.

Harry looked around for the source of the whispering, but couldn't seem to find where it was coming from. His eyes fell on the window.

It was open….

As he tiptoed toward the window, Harry saw a faint outline of what looked like a head.

It was silhouetted against the moonlight. The figure was wearing a black mask over their face, with no holes for eyes, but only for the mouth.

And just as he was about to scream, the figure cried, "Silencio!"

At the exact same time, a voice behind him screamed, "Evada Kedav-" but was suddenly cut off.

A sharp pain entered the small of Harry's back, something burnt the top of his right ear, and a cool swish of feathery silver splashed his face.

The fourth impact, a heavy blow to the back of his head, made his eyes stream.

As Harry fell to the floor, blinded by color and flashes of light, the masked figure swooped through the open window.

Harry's face hit the floor tremendously.

He fell unconscious.


	2. Kidnapped

Chapter 2: Kidnapped 

When Harry awoke at noon the next day, he did not find himself lying in bed with sunshine swimming through his room. He was not warm, and did not feel as if he had peacefully slept through the night.

Instead, he felt cold and like he had been tossed around by such a force that his left foot ached with extreme pain, and his rib cage did not feel much better.

He was curious of where he was. But he dared not open his eyes, for he could hear voices.

They were very close, too...

"You fool! How could you let them escape with him?" whispered one voice frantically. It was a man's; he sounded livid.  
"You did little to help the matter! Standing there watching, while we fought like loyal servants to Him should!" said a second voice. It, also a man's, had a certain hissing manor about it.

_Wait a minute_, thought Harry, _I know those voices..._

He knew it was safe to open his eyes now. He could even feel warm, shallow breathing on his face...

Harry flung his eyelids open. But the face he met was not what he had exepected...

"Hello, Harry..."

Harry screamed. It was the shrillest scream he had ever emitted in his life.

At the same moment, he felt searing pain on the upperside of his wrist, and warmnes trickle down his cold hand.

Harry stopped screaming.

"Yes, it is nawt vawy good to scweam, is it, baby Harry?" said a mock-baby voice.

Hatred filled every freezing and numb fiber of Harry's body.

"Voldemort."


	3. Dead

Chapter 3: Dead...  


"You know, I'm in an exceptionally good mood today, Harry. Would you like to know why?" asked Voldemort bouyantly.

"Shut your God da--" Harry began in a wave of fury, but almost immediately stopped.

His wrists had just been cut again.

Voldemort laughed shrilly.

"Language, Harry, language..." said Voldemort. "If you keep on, you'll have no blood left, and you'll die a much more painless death than what I had planned for you. We wouldn't want that, now, would we?" He laughed again, showing oddly pointed teeth.

"Besides, what fun would that be for me?" he continued.

As Voldemort began to laugh his hardest yet, Harry heard a roar of muffled laughter.

For the first time, Harry looked down at the rest of his body.

But as he saw his own feet - his left footwas bent in an odd sort of way - he saw a dark green, stone staircase covered with moss and ivy, about a foot wide and one hundred feet long. The staircase descended from the tiny platform he lay on to ... nothing, it seemed.

He wanted to gasp, but hel himself back.

He was in a circular room, and as Harry looked upwards, he saw that there was virtually no celing, but just blackness. Along the walls were cages. These cages had black bars, with large metal contraptions attatched to where the lock should have been.

Branching out from the contraptions were wires that seemed to be alive - they were flinging themselves around in the air and wrapping about the bars of cages. As each wire-like creature hit the cages bars, they let out electrical shocks and sparks that momentarily lit up the enormous, vast, empty room.

Voldemort had stopped laughing now. He looked at Harry, a wide smile forming on his pale face at the look of suprise and question on Harry's face.

"Those are my 'Shocking Snapper-Serpents'." Voldemort smiled wider. "My own creation. Like them?"

Harry couldn't believe this was happening to him... What about his Guard? Wasn't a member of the Order supposed to be near him at all time? Where wer they now and _what was happening to him?_

"Now, Harry, I'd like to play a little game. I am going to open up those cells," Voldemort waved a flourishing hand toward a particularly nasty tangle of Shocking Snapper-Serpents, and they abruptly became motionless and fell limply, banging against the cage. "And you are to identify what is in them for me. I'm sure you will find this very entertaining." He motioned toward the cage where the Serpents were loosely hanging, and waved his hand again, this time in a beckoning motion.

The cage began to slide out of the wall with an ear-piercing grate, floating in the air. It was slowly levitating toward Harry.

When it was about three feet away from Harty, the cell stopped, and just floated there...waiting for further instruction.

Now that itwas closer, Harry could see that there was a black metal barrier directly behind the bars of the cage... From a distance it had looked as if the cage was empty.

"Now for the rules of our little game. One: No screaming, yelling, or cursing. Two: No flailing. We don't want anymore _nasty_ little cuts now, do we? And three: If you should happen to become _so_ depressed from this game, and reach the point where you believe you can longer 'take it,' then, please remember...you will die soon enough." Voldemort let out a harsh burst of laughter.

"Ready?"

Harry glared.

"One..." The cage door swung open.

"Two..." The black barrier slowly started to rise.

"Three...!" The barrier shot upward, revealing its contents.

Harry stared.

It was Dumbledore. Dead.


End file.
